Shut the door
by ShanMah
Summary: AU version of a scene we all know and love - Justin bringing back Brian's bracelet. I can't possibly be the only fan who thought about the scene playing just a bit differently, can I? [AU][Britin]


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters involved or anything related to Queer as Folk. This is a humble non-profit fanfiction based on the masterpiece that is QAF, which was brought to us by: pure. Fucking. Geniuses.

 **Pairing:** Brian x Justin

 **Rating:** M ( _T_ _oday, on the cover of "DUH!" magazine... gay sex in QAF-related stuff!_ )

 **Context:** Been in love with his fucking iconic show for many, many years. Been binge-watching it lately. Realized I had not written anything about QAF, ever, and that was downright criminal - so here we are.

 **Description/summary:** AU version of a scene we all know and love - Justin bringing back Brian's bracelet. I can't possibly be the only fan who thought about the scene playing just a bit differently, can I?

 **Music, maestro?:** I am absolutely unable to write without music, and I always recommend something if a piece has been especially instrumental (DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE) to a chapter. And of course QAF is blessed with the most wonderful, amazing, iconic soundtrack ever. I wrote this (the part that becomes AU) listening to Full Frontal - You think you're a man (do not own it, all rights to respective owners, etc.), which I like to call Britin. mp3 . Feel free to whip out your QAF soundtrack and listen to this while reading.

 **Shut the door**

Brian leaned against the door frame, his eyes gazing upon Justin, wondering why the fuck he was there except rub it to his face, by his very presence, that what they had, or what he thought they had, what he vehemently denied that they had, was no more. And his lips, too; even now, he felt drawn to them - irresistibly so. He wanted to kiss them, bite them, see them around his co-

"I believe this belongs to you."

"What," Brian almost replied, "Your mouth? Your ass? You?" but before he could say anything, Justin raised a hand, holding up the shell bracelet that had disappeared around the same time shit started going down with his cunt sister and her fag-hating son - and yet Brian barely saw the souvenir from Mexico, his focus entirely on the hand holding it. It was all he could see, all he could think of - this hand touching him, running his fingers into his hair when they kissed, digging his nails into his back when they fucked, gripping his cock. _Christ, fucking snap out of it,_ he mentally scolded himself, _this fucking city is full of guys with hands_.

"Thanks," he simply said, taking back the bracelet, which was the least of his worries right now.

"Anytime."

Justin lowered his gaze, doing that cute thing with his mouth that he did when he didn't know what to say or do. _Ain't that fucking great, he can't bear to look at me and I can't take my eyes off him - what are we, lesbians?_

"Here-"

Justin got closer, his hands picking up the bracelet to tie it around his wrist. His fingers touched Brian's skin, ever so lightly, and Brian could not help but wonder if he had done that on purpose - he certainly was taking his sweet time with the task- or was it just because it had felt like time stopped? And why was it even happening? He had not even made a single move to put the bracelet around his wrist, so why the fuck would he spontaneously offer his help, if not to fuck with him mentally?

Only mentally, obviously - apparently the days of physical fucking were well over. The fucking fiddler had seen to that, with his romantic, monogamist bullshit. He had Sunshine fooled with his pretty words and candle-lit dinners and roses and whatever the fuck other people did when they were supposedly _"in love"_ \- but not Brian. He had known what he was the moment he laid his eyes on him. How long until Justin saw the truth too?

Brian cleared his throat, pressing his lips together briefly before he leaned in, just a tiny little bit, so subtly that even he did not notice it.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your boyfriend?" he asked.

Justin glanced up at him, his eyes giving a slight deer-in-headlights vibe, as if he was searching for the correct answer to that question, or debating something with himself. Hopefully, whether or not to get on his knees and suck him off right now.

"Yeah," Justin finally replied.

The slight note of hesitation in his voice did not go unnoticed by Brian, who arched his eyebrows, not taking his eyes off him. As Justin turned away and began leaving, a tiny, tiny part of Brian nearly grabbed his arm, pulled him in and kissed him. But he could not do that. He would not. He did not run after people, much less hold them back. It was right up there in the _Kinney rules book_.

That didn't mean he had to like it. Self-inflicted rules could be the absolute worst. He walked away too, back into his loft. He was nearly in the kitchen when he hear footsteps. He stopped, turned his head, and saw that Justin had come back and stepped in the lavish loft. Brian frowned, his hand still on his bracelet - or on his wrist, right where Justin had touched him.

"What?" he barked.

"You, uh... you left you door open, just... just so you know-"

 _I didn't - did I? Is he mentally fucking with me again?_ If he did leave the door opened, he had not even realized it. _I bet a shrink would have a hard-on just thinking of trying to decipher the subconscious or unconscious bullshit involved in that fucking mess of a situation._

"Well if you don't mind stepping out," he replied, turning around completely, "I'll be glad to close it and lock it. Wouldn't want to get ass-raped in my sleep, think about the fucking irony."

He took one step towards Justin and the door - just one, because Justin had not moved, and if he got any closer he would jump his bones, rip off his pants and fuck his brains out.

Brian cleared his throat again, and yet Justin did not budge, except for his hands, which were fidgeting like he was tweaked out of his damn mind - although Brian knew better than to think he was.

"Sunshine-"

Wait. No.

He probably was not allowed to call him like that anymore.

He bit his tongue, placing his hand flat on his counter in an effort to avoid fidgeting like Justin was.

"Justin. If you don't get out of my loft right this instant, I am going to fuck you on every piece of Italian furniture I own, and you won't be able to walk straight for a week."

"Good," Justin replied, taking a step forward.

Brian blinked once, twice, thrice, as if to reset the scene, to make sure he had actually heard this, actually seen this. He ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes set on Justin.

"Shut the door, then - I got enough sex-related charges to my name right now, I'd prefer not to add indecency if a neighbour happens to walk by."

And in the brief time it took for Justin to turn around, close and lock the door, then turn towards Brian again, he could swear he had taken a trip back in time, because he reminded him... he reminded him of their first night together. The eagerness, the nervousness - in fact, he reminded him so much of the insecure seventeen year-old that during the split second where he had faced the open door, Brian thought that he might get cold feet and make a run for it, just like he had feared that night.

But he had not.

Just like that night.

Brian opened his arms, and Justin too could swear he had been thrown back in time, back to the first time he had been here with him. He could almost hear his voice ask him: "So are you coming or going? Or coming, then going? Or coming... then staying?".

He would never know if Brian intended to ask the question again, as he had quickly rushed to him.

Justin had closed the distance between them, definitely more confident than he had been back then. He stretched his neck for a kiss, but Brian stopped him with a hand to his upper chest. Justin tried again, with the same result. Justin glanced up at him, sheer confusion across his face, and Brian smirked.

"Br-"

He did not get further than that, as Brian pulled him in, kissing him, at long last. He kissed him eagerly, hungrily, almost violently, and Justin was very quickly reminded of why Brian had pushed him away two times - because Brian Kinney always made the first move. Brian Kinney was always in control. Justin gave in, tilting his head back as he surrendered to him, and Brian had never felt so alive since... since... since... fuck it, who was keeping count.

He ran his hand through his thick, golden hair as his mouth was moving from Justin's lips to his sensitive neck, grabbing a fistful of hair to pull his head back, which earned him a sound that sounded like both a hiss and a yelp from Justin.

Christ, he had missed it so badly - how vocal he was, how willing, how he tasted and felt. Everywhere. Everything. Brian wanted to have every single bit of him, again, and again, and again, like they had never stopped, like Ian what's-his-face-what-the-fuck-is-that-stupid-goatie had shoved his violin up his ass, where it belonged, and disappeared. Brian's hands were on Justin's clothes, hastily removing the jacket, shirt, whatever he was wearing was in the way, and Brian would have none of that bullshit.

"Oh, fuck," Justin breathed out when Brian, his lips and tongue still busy on his neck, slid his hand underneath his pants.

His hand was soft, and strong, and warm, and he had missed his touch so much that he nearly came just as Brian's grip got around his cock. Justin moaned blissfully, his arms getting tighter around his lover's shoulders, his hips moving in jerky motions to match Brian's rhythm. He had not know how much he had missed it until he was given another taste of it, but right now the world could end and he would not notice, as long as Brian was still touching and kissing him.

Chills ran across his half-naked body as Brian kissed his way down, his lips and tongue teasing his nipples, his fingers trailing down his rib rage as he progressively got on his knees in front of Justin. He kissed him beneath his belly button, his eyes glancing up at him as his hands unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Fuck, he was gorgeous. As Justin dug his fingers in his brown hair, Brian pulled down his jeans and boxers to his ankles, freeing his cock at long last.

Justin threw his head back, a moan coming from his throat when Brian took the tip in between his soft lips. He breathed in deeply, his fingers stiffening on Brian's scalp as Brian took him deeper inside his mouth. God, there was nothing, no one like him. For someone who was much keener on _getting_ heads than _giving_ heads, he was ridiculously good. His fingers began playing with his balls, sending chills down his spine. Somehow, a part of Justin's brain, the tiny, minuscule part that was not overwhelmed by what he was feeling right now, registered that for all the guys he had seen with Brian, never, never, _never_ had he seen him blow someone else. _Except me_.

"Fuck," Justin moaned again, his breath getting heavier with each little thing Brian did to him.

He was so damn good - he had officially doomed Justin, ruined every other man for him the moment he had taken his virginity. He would never find better, in bed at the very least.

Brian's expert tongue and lips sucked him off eagerly - there was absolutely nothing slow or teasing about it. He wanted Justin back, he wanted to claim him again - he was yearning for it, aching for it, and he sure as fuck was not into taking it easy right now. His other hand firmly squeezed Justin's buttock - his perfect, round, perky buttock, a finger venturing close to his asshole, slipping inside of him, fingering him as he sucked him off.

A part of him was conscious enough to realize that he was oddly tight for someone who was supposed to have a boyfriend - but the rest of him was so warped in what he was doing, feeling, tasting, that he did not even register the information. He could feel Justin tensing all over now, his legs trembling, his hips moving jerkily, his moans louder and louder, and Brian knew him well enough to know what was coming.

Pun intended.

Justin whispered his name, his fingers stiff in Brian's hair, cumming loudly and heavily, and yet Brian was still sucking, adding waves to the tsunami that had already crushed him. Brian got up, and Justin stepped out of his tangled clothes, pressing his naked body against him as he kissed him deeply, feeling his own taste on Brian's tongue. He made him walk backwards, and backwards, and backwards, until they reached his bedroom and fell down on the bed.

His hands were all over Brian's perfect body, undressing him as hastily as Brian had done earlier. Before he could get to returning the favour, however, Brian flipped him on his back, taking control of the situation once again. He kissed him again, as passionately as before, one of his hand reaching to the bedside table for a condom - not exactly a rare commodity in his loft, especially in the bedroom area. Brian straightened his upper body, his hands on Justin's knees, slowly pushing inside of him. Justin gasped and hissed, his hands clenching on the dark blue sheets, his facial expression tensed. Pained, even, and he was not fully in yet. _What the fuck?_

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, a hand on his cheek.

"N-no."

Brian raised his eyebrows, his eyes yelling don't-fucking-bullshit-me. He leaned forward, bringing his mouth close to Justin's ear:

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you feel like a virgin."

A flush came to Justin's adorable face, turning his cheeks pink, and Brian could not help the smirk on his lips.

"How small is his dick, for Christ's sake?"

Justin shook his head.

"Never... never _that_ way with him."

Brian felt himself grow even more at that thought, which earned him a hiss from the lovely man beneath him. He could not help it, just like he could not help the primal, visceral thought that he still owned a part of Justin - that even when he was gone, even when he was with Mr. I-swear-to-God-I-believe-in-monogamy-also-my-goatie-absolutely-does-not-look-stupid, there was still something that belonged to him, and him only. Fiddle-my-violin was definitely missing something - not that Brian complained.

His hips began a thrusting motion, slowly at first, to allow Justin time to adapt - the last thing he wanted was to hurt him. Taking his moaning and ass-wiggling as a sign that he was ready for more, Brian sped up the pace, and Justin stretched his neck, his lips begging for a kiss that Brian was glad to give him, his tongue battling with Justin's as he fucked him harder and harder.

It was pure, raw ecstasy - he felt close already, like some horny teenager. Why was it that no one compared? Brian broke off the kiss, his hand finding Justin's cock, which had grown hard as rock again. Justin threw his head back in the pillow, biting his lower lip when his lover began jerking him off as he thrust into him.

"Come on," Brian whispered, "Let go - cum for me again-"

And Justin's body stiffened again as he cried out Brian's name, this second orgasm even more intense than the first, his muscles so tight around Brian's dick that Brian was pushed over the edge as well, burying his face in Justin's neck, his whole body trembling, his hips pushing as deep as possible inside of Justin. Still panting and recovering, Brian rolled his sweaty body off Justin's, quickly disposing of the condom. His breath was still heavy and irregular, his heart still pounding in his chest, when Justin sat up in the bed, his back turned on him.

Justin glanced up at the kitchen, where his clothes had been left, laying on the floor. He knew Brian well enough to know that this is when the trick was supposed to get the fuck out, because Brian Kinney didn't do sleep-overs, second rounds, or, God fucking forbid, post-fuck cuddling and conversation.

Justin got up, stepping down the bed platform.

"Where are you going?" Brian asked, his voice raspier than he would have wanted.

Justin cleared his throat, and Brian saw him lower his head very slightly.

"To quote the great Brian Kinney himself, I should get back to my boyfriend."

Brian would have sneered if he still had the energy needed to be his usual smug asshole. His eyes followed Justin as he walked down to the kitchen.

"Wait," Brian said, and he immediately hated himself for speaking.

Justin turned around, his jeans in his left hand. Brian sat up in the bed. _For fuck's sake,_ he mentally flogged himself, _The "don't go after anyone" rule also means you don't fucking hold them back._ Justin frowned. There was something eerily insecure and - was that even possible? - vulnerable about him right now. If he had not known any better, he could have sworn one of his many, many masks had just dropped.

"Stay."

There was a weird inflection in his voice - Justin could not quite tell if he was giving a command or asking a question. He kept his gaze on Brian, looking most intrigued. Or worried. Or in disbelief. Brian could not quite tell.

"Stay the night?" Justin asked.

There was a short silence. Hesitation. Uncertainty.

"Yeah," he finally replied.

Justin had a small laugh.

"I thought Brian Kinney didn't do-"

"Would you shut up and get your ass back in the bed," Brian finally snapped.

Justin smiled, dropped his jeans on the floor and made his way back in the bedroom. That was the Brian Kinney he knew and loved.

 _Had_ loved.

He laid in the bed, letting Brian cover his naked body with his silky sheets, keeping a tight arm around him.

 _Fuck it. Might as well be honest._

The Brian Kinney he still loved despite everything.


End file.
